Chuck vs Sarah
by ArchelonWP
Summary: Explores the Chuck & Sarah dynamic - what that would have happened without any of those messy love triangles/Shaw. AU, Post-Season 2
1. Chuck vs the Dumpling Enthusiast

_Well, this is my first fanfic, so I'm looking forward for any comments/ feedback and of course, constructive criticism!_

_Hmm...I'm not sure whether I'm posting this in the right format, so...yeah. Also, I don't think I really need to mention this, but, NO. I don't own Chuck whatsoever. This is pure, 100% the product of an enthusiastic Charah shipper._

_EDIT : Thanks for correcting me coreymon77. Guilty as charged. I have changed the color of her eyes accordingly. Also, I apologize for not mentioning this sooner, it's set post-season 2 after Chuck has uploaded the Intersect 2.0._

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**Chapter 1 - Chuck vs the Dumpling Enthusiast**

It was an addiction. Like the man who would scarf down bars of chocolate, knowing that he would gag and retch, leaving pools of brownish sludge by the drain moments later; he was addicted. To her. Only, there was no option of cheating, swindling or robbing this article of his desire. Simply he couldn't seem to steal her heart.

Cold, detached, distant. Yet, warm, affectionate, and... his girlfriend - or_ sort of_, at the risk of repeating himself. She was the epitome of contradictions, an enigma in itself. Her slate blue eyes revealed only more secrets. He felt as though he was treading in open water, staring into the unfathomable depths of her gaze.

Her hair was swept into a messy chignon; the curves of her body visible upon the tight-fitting brilliant red gown. It was no wonder that once too many times his mind had wandered during missions. Tonight was no exception. God envisioned perfection like this, the thought had registered in his mind when she had first emerged from the Castle garbed for their newest mission earlier in the evening.

"Chuck?" She broke his train of thoughts, anchoring him back to reality, and the gravity of their situation.

Their bodies were crushed against each other as they tried groping their way out amidst the pitch black darkness of an air ventilation shaft. His hands groped about for purchase as the passage took a sharp vertical drop. Closing his grasp against something firm, he gave a hard tug as he tried pulling himself upwards.

"Chuck!" Her voice was sharper.

"Yeah?"

"That is my upper, upper, upper thigh you're holding on to."

A thought crossed his mind. Well, now that she's mentioned it, this surface does indeed have a very soft, smooth quality to it, almost like...

"Wait! What?" His face contorted into a look of mortification, flushing the color of beetroot as his mind registered and deciphered the very meaning of her words. "Oh god, sorry." He muttered, as an embarrassing silence ensued.

Although he didn't exactly find any shortcomings to their current situation, it wouldn't have hurt either to have stayed in the car and finished the packet of fresh, pipping-hot Chinese dumplings he had taken-away for dinner. That was half an hour ago.

It's funny how a situation can change in a matter of split seconds, he mused, once more pulling onto something he shouldn't have seen and wouldn't have gotten away doing in a less dire situation. Just as he had been about to unpack his dinner, just when he was actually going to listen to Sarah and Casey for once - stay in the car, the action had sought him out. Literally.

**Thirty minutes earlier...**

"Out!" a gruff voice ordered in a tone that told Chuck the man (he had to be a man, with that deep a voice) didn't mind resorting in violence to get what he wanted. Glancing out, almost jumping out of his seat in surprise previously, he met face-to-face with a bald, menacing giant stooping down and pressing his head against the windows.

"Uh..." The man's patience wore thin at Chuck's hesitation. Smashing the door open, he plucked him from his seat and Chuck found the world spinning about him as he was thrown out of his own vehicle.

"Damn, why does this happen everytime?" Winded, it took him a moment for the sight before him to make sense. Calling out in incredulity, he said, "You could have just asked, you know? I'd have given you those dumplings without the need to dirty this borrowed tux." He picked a rotten banana skin out of his front pocket, muttering, "Oh god, Awesome is going to kill me."

"You take me a fool?" The man turned to him, speaking in between mouthfuls of meat and dough. "You wouldn't give me these babies for nothing." He raised a hand to fish a dumpling out from the lake of oily soup, revealing a tattoo imprinted onto his bicep.

Oh, _shit._ Even after living three years with a giant computer residing in his brain, the brief feeling of nausea and weakness as the Intersect encroached upon his conscious mind was something he could hardly get used to. Images flickered in his mind, but a single word stood out amidst the garble of text and pictures...

"Triad?" he blurted out all of a sudden, drawing a sharp glance from the giant.

"Say what?"

All the dots connected to form the whole picture; the last piece of the puzzle fell into place. Their mission had been to spy on General Ming Hao, a chinese high-ranking military officer who had come to the states on diplomatic purposes. The CIA had caught wind of an ulterior motive, namely overlooking the purchase of explosives for the Chinese government which, when amounted, could leave a crater the size of California. They could only have done this with help of somebody influential, someone who didn't mind skirting the authorities. If this operation had affiliations to the Triads...

"You say what?" the giant' eyes squinted suspiciously, his eyebrows crumpling downwards, all to comic effect. However, Chuck was in no mood to laugh. He had to warn Sarah and Casey. They had been involved in a mission regarding the Triads before, and surely they would be recognized soon enough.

"Nothing...no. Just continue having your dinner. Have to run!" With that, he broke of into a sprint. Where was the easiest, fastest way to break into a heavily guarded ambassadorial function? Every entrance and exit was milling with men with large arms and big guns. There wasn't even a kitchen backdoor in sight. So, that left the single, remaining, feasible option - Charles Carmichael.

"The name's Carmichael. You'll want to let me in there right now." Taking a deep breathe to calm his jangling nerves, he walked up to the nearest entrance, hands tucked into pockets and exuding a sense of confidence that he didn't seem to be able to possess.

The guard glance at the guest list in his hand, his companion staring distrustfully at him. "Not on the list it seems. Sorry, sir, we won't be able to allow you in. "

"I don't think you understand the situation here. Clearly, there's something wrong with that list. If you don't let me through this instance, you're going to regret it." He folds his arms impatiently just as his inner voice shouts for Casey and Sarah to appear any moment soon.

"Well, well. You better back off now." The more aggressive counterpart rose to the challenge, drawing his gun from its holster

"Careful...careful there. Okay, backing off. I'm backing off." Chuck raised his arms in surrender just as the Intersect took hold. Whack! Bam! Both guards went down like pieces of dominoes. Well, I do have my moments with the Intersect, he thought, brushing invisible particles of dust off his tux as he strode past the door.

Three minutes. That's the amount of time he estimated he would have before the security noticed something amiss. Where are they? He wondered, scanning the hall for a trace of scarlet, listening for a tell-tale grunt. Looking towards the dance-floor, his gaze fell onto a lean, athletics frame donning a sleeveless dress - Sarah.

"Sarah!" he called across the room. Her face registered incredulity and a tinge of annoyance as she turned to meet his gaze. Excusing herself from the middle of a very provocative dance with her dashing partner (yes, Chuck was a little jealous. No, wait- very jealous), she hurried to him, demanding immediately, "What are you doing here? You need to get out of here before you mess up this mission! Get back in-"

"Wait, wait, wait, wait. Sarah, listen to me! These people have connections with the Triad, and I don't think they'll forget who you guys are after last time!" Chuck hissed back urgently, eyes darting around nervously.

"What?" Then, muttering urgently into her earpiece, she related this information to Casey. "We've been compromised. Head out."

"Roger that" came a disembodied voice, and Chuck noticed a tall, broad-shouldered bartender leave his place in the corner of the room.

However, just as they were about to follow suit, a guard appeared out of nowhere, shouting, "That's him! Yes, that man over there! Carmichael!"

**Back to the Present...**

Of course, they obviously weren't able to catch him or Sarah, or they wouldn't be stuck in the air-ventilation shaft right this minute. Wriggling and heaving himself upwards, Chuck managed to cover several more inches of ascent. Above, Sarah spoke into her earpiece. "Casey, what's the situation out there...Clear?Okay, give us another five and we're out of here." Then, calling down to him, "Come on, Chuck. A little bit more."

He hauled himself upwards another few centimeters, already able to smell freedom. The air felt cooler, and fresher. The clamor of traffic and passersby told him that they were near the end of this tortuous journey. His heart was soaring with joy and relief when...all of a sudden, a hand grabbed onto his leg.

"Oh boy, here we go again," he squeaked in panic, feeling his body beginning to slide back into a downwards tumble. Just before gravity pried him from his perch, holding onto two rusty nails fitted into the walls of the shaft, he managed two more syllables. "Sarah!"

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_Well, yawn, that was boring. Cementing the base with Chapter 1, I shall hopefully be able to concentrate more on the emotional aspect of their relationship the next few entries, but..._

_Of course, that depends on the feedback, eh? So, feel free to leave your comments, suggestions, advice - basically, anything! (If it sounds like I'm hounding you too much with the 'leave your comment' bit, I apologize. XD)_


	2. Sarah vs the Pizza Delivery Man

_WOW. I never imagined to get so many reviews in Chapter 1. Thanks for all your encouragement, guys! It really means a lot. Also, sorry for all the mistakes, haha. _

_Well, just as a brief explanation, although Chuck has the Intersect 2.0, I don't really like the fact that it resolves most of the problems and battles he faces. So, it won't be featured so much in my story. I've always preferred his brain (and of course, girlish screams) over brawn._

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"Chuck! Wake up, Chuck!"

"What happened? I don't understand. I thought he was going to a function with you."

_Apparently I did too, _Chuck vaguely registered the thought at the edge of his consciousness. _Of course, how could I have forgotten? Stay in the car, Chuck._

"Man's got a minor concussion from a fall. Might have been a little too rough, Sarah. Look at my tux, man - tatters."

Was he underwater? Voices drifted by, nudging and pestering for him to rise to the surface. He resisted. In this peaceful, serene void, gone were all the complications and complexities that plagued him. He was straddling a thin line here, playing hopscotch with the oh-so-uneventful _realm_ of BuyMore and the spy world. Saving the world at $11 an hour wasn't exactly his dream job, not to mention the spying, lying and ensuing alienation from all his friends and family. Let's not even get started with this missio-

His eyes flickered open, and he wrinkled his nose at the sharp, aseptic smell of disinfectant. Hospital? He thought blearily. What happened? Wait, wasn't there the -

"Dumpling….Dumpling guy?" he shouted, sitting bolt upright. Immediately, a streak of pain shot up his left arm and he fell back into the bed. The voices drifted nearer, and he peeked an eye open, counting three pairs staring worriedly back at him - Ellie, Awesome and Sarah.

"Rise and shine, bro. Like I said, minor head concussion," Devon diagnosed, a satisfied grin on his face. However, Ellie didn't look as relieved. Turning to Sarah, she asked concernedly, "Who's this dumpling guy?"

"Um, I think…I think he was referring to…to one of the chefs from last night..? Uh, you know, great, great food. Dim sum, buns, dumplings-" Equally taken aback, she forged ahead with the first thing that came to her mind.

"Hey guys, could I talk to Sarah for a while?"he interjected frantically, before she gave herself away with the ridiculous concoction. Ellie's eyebrows were already threatening to disappear above her fringe. Also, hundreds of questions were milling about in his head, and he needed some answers from Sarah.

"How's your arm?" She sat down at the edge of the bed, and he felt himself melting under her gaze (in a good way, he supposed). The throbbing pain receded, he cleared his throat and answered, "Yeah, I'm fine. But I can't even remember how this happened." He raised the bandaged arm before continuing. "So…what happens now?"

"Well… you fainted during the fall actually. The air duct gave way to the impact and both you and the assailant landed in the kitchen. I managed to extract you with minimal commotion, but it looks like both of us won't be able to participate in the mission anymore. Casey will continue spying on the Chinese General as a solo mission. In the mean time, you shall rest, and I will have to job of looking after you." She folded her arms and smiled softly.

"Wait, didn't Casey participate in a mission involving the Triads before and won't it be too risky now?" asked Chuck, a little confused.

Sarah broke out into a rare chuckle. She waited a while to regain her composure before replying. "That's why he's not going in as a person. The CIA received intel. that the exchange will occur two days from now, this Saturday, under the guise of a weapons showcase. It'll be a public event to avoid any suspicion, but the place will be heavily guarded. Casey will be there as a living statue."

"A what?" Chuck spluttered out in bewilderment.

"He'll model the firearms, Chuck," explained Sarah, returning the grin plastered across his face. However, as she addressed the next topic, her mood became more somber. "However, apparently they caught you on their security footage, and the General wants me to make sure you stay safe for the next few days. So...I'll have to stay-over at your house if that's okay with you?"

"Yeah, sure," he replied, perhaps a little too quickly.

**Time : 1900 hours**

Two figures sat facing each other across the wooden table, each with a potentially dangerous utensil placed strategically beside them. The former, lanky with locks of wavy, auburn hair, rose to answer the ringing doorbell. The other remained seated, eyes trailing the former who had just procured a paper package balanced atop a cardboard box. Smiling, the latter set out two circular, saucer-like articles that could probably be compared to…plates?

"Yes, plates. So, here we go. Pizza - Vegetarian, no olives…and sizzling shrimp!" Grinning, Chuck placed the food on the table. Then, shuffling through the drawers, he retrieved and placed a candle-stand onto the table, before continuing in an apologetic tone. "Also….Sarah, I hope you don't mind, but I figured that we'd make it more realistic , as in candlelight dinner. You know, in case my sister or Morg-"

"Hey, it's okay. Here." She handed him a matchbox before pulling out two slices of pizza, one for him.

**30 minutes later, **

"It was actually a bad idea, wasn't it?" Chuck flinched a little as another dribble of wax pooled at the base of the table. He raised his hand and wiped a bead of sweat off his forehead as he absentmindedly bit into another slice of pizza. "I don't even think they're going to be back soon - Ellie and Devon. Let's just switch on the light. This is getting rather stupid. By the way, you don't exactly have to stick around here you know? I mean, even though the General made you keep an eye on me, feel free to escape from my dreary, banal existence. TV's over there and there's a desktop in my room. Wait, you know that already, don't you?"

Her expression softened as she concentrated her gaze on him. "Don't sell yourself short. You're better company than a lot of people I know, trust me. Also, I've never really eaten pizza and sizzling shrimp for a candlelight dinner. Now, go turn on the lights while I clean up all the wax here."

Smiling appreciatively, Chuck flicked on the lights switch with his good arm, inadvertently catching a glimpse of a silhouette in Casey's apartment. A flicker of unease stirred inside of him, but he shook off the feeling, chiding himself for being paranoid. He had been involved in too many kidnapping and hostage situations for his own good. "Looks like Casey clocked in early tonight. I thought he'd still be in the Castle preparing for the mission," he commented.

"What? That's odd." Sarah looked up from her task of washing plates, looking mildly disturbed.

Shrugging, he continued nonchalantly, "Nah, it's no big deal. Now that I've mentioned it, I think he ordered pizza too. I saw the pizza delivery man walk to his house with a package just now."

"That's impossible. He just texted me to say that he's analyzing…"Her eyes lit up as realization dawned upon her, and she shouted urgently,"Duck!"

If there was something he had learnt from the past few years with his CIA handlers, it was to follow all (or most) of their orders no matter how ridiculous the time and place. A split second later, a blade the length of his arm impaled itself into the wall right where his head had been a very, very brief moment ago. Immediately, Sarah hauled him away from his perilous position by the wall. Crouching being the kitchen cabinets, she dialed Casey's number, all the while shielding him behind her as she scanned for the assailant.

"Casey, we've been compromised….target has not been verified, but I'm guessing Triad…no, num-" A blur of movement edged into the room through the window. Sarah grabbed a bread knife lying on the countertop behind her. She gave a quick glance at the utensil in her arm, saying, "Damn, where are all those kitchen axes when you need them?" Then, deciding that she'd have to make do with it anyhow, she sprang up and tackled the intruder.

Picking up the phone from where she had left it with fumbling hands, Chuck yammered on nervously. "Casey, you really need to get here quickly. Sarah's fighting with a _bread_ knife for god's sake! You have no idea what that guy is carrying. I swear it looks like a bloody scythe, except its metal all the way down to the base. How does he even carry that thing…that's not the point-"

"One more word, Bartowski…..One more word and I'll make sure personally that you find that very scythe impaled in your chest when I get there,"growled Casey.

Then, whilst praying for Casey to arrive ASAP, he hid there - wide-eyed, not from the empty threat but rather witnessing Sarah as she alternated between offensive and defensive strikes and punches adroitly, always keeping the assailant away from where he crouched behind the kitchen table. He squeezed his eyes shut, begging the Intersect to come to his aid, only to end up with a throbbing headache from concentrating too much.

A sharp thrust to the side, a nip to the left, followed by an uppercut - dancing and weaving ceaselessly to escape the path of the blade, Sarah executed each slash and blow with ease and elegance fit only of someone who was accustomed with wielding such instruments on a daily basis. The assailant brandished a gigantic, wicked-looking blade, jabbing and slicing the air violently, but she knew from experience that it was at the expense of speed and agility. It was clear to her that her opponent wasn't as experienced, swinging the blade around like a demented monkey, that soon would get tired of the weight in its arms. On the other hand, she calculated her every move, every duck and swerve with pinpoint precision. Finally, she saw an opening. Sidestepping another untimely slash, she gave a sharp rap to the back of the assailant's skull, who crumpled limply to the ground immediately.

Then, just as she turned back to face Chuck, a shot tore through the eerie silence. She turned to meet the next challenge, but her legs protested and buckled, sending her sprawling to the ground. Something wet trickled down her side. She glanced down and cursed. Blood. Damn it, she got shot.

"Holy!" shrieked Chuck, before she silenced him with a sharp look. Gritting her teeth, she half-dragged herself back behind the cabinets with Chuck's help.

"Damn it," hissed Sarah, using a napkin that had dropped onto the floor to dab some of the blood from the wound.

"Oh god…Oh god….What do we do right now? Maybe we should surrender, and they'll stop shooting? That makes sense right? Does it? Oh god, where's Casey now?" Chuck spluttered out in panic. He hated blood, it gave him the willies. Seeing Sarah get hurt only made it worse. Of course, he'd expected something like this to happen sooner or later, but not _her._ It was supposed to be him, wasn't it? The awkward, bumbling fool of a computer nerd making the headlines with "Nerd-Herder accidentally plummets to death from 21st floor after slipping on his own vomit". Desperately, he half-shouted, "Flash! Come on, flash!"

"Listen to me,"Sarah grasped his hands reassuringly, though hers were shaking almost as much as his. She compelled him to look her in the face as she ordered, "Look, Casey won't be here in time. When they come in, I'll distract them and you have to jump out of the window. Run as fast as you can, as far away from here. Try to find Casey, or just get into the Castle." Her voice broke a little at the end. She looks _almost_ vulnerable, he thought, but other pressing concerns swept that thought away as he realized what she was saying.

Indignantly he protested, "I can't leave you here! They'll hurt you!"

"There's no other choice, Chuck. Besides, Casey'll most probably arrive by then," countered Sarah, rational even in the face of danger and perhaps, worse.

"No, damn it, I'm not leaving you behind! It goes against everything I believe in. Like Casey said, semper fiddles, there's no way I'm leaving you behind."He could almost imagine Casey giving one of his trademark quips, sighing- _how symbolic._ Yeah, it was a symbolic gesture, he thought bitterly. After all, what could he do even if he stayed behind? Probably only providing an accompaniment of girlish screams and yelps when the torture began.

A part of her resolve melted, but only slightly. Hardening her heart, she snapped, "Chuck, your safety is the priority here. Stop making it so difficult for me to do my job! You're more important than me."

"Well, you're more important _to _me, Sarah!" he retorted. Then, a movement caught his attention, drawing his attention. His eyes grew the size of saucers as he murmured "two…three…five…seven…eleven…."

The numbers stirred her memory, and Sarah found herself thinking of math classes all of a sudden. Looking worriedly at Chuck, she demanded incredulously, eyebrows raised, "Prime numbers, seriously?"

Turning his attention back to her, she noticed his chocolate-brown eyes register raw fear. In a grave voice which spoke volumes about the direness of their situation, he said, "Looks like I have to stick around whether I like it or not now. I was counting _men, _Sarah_._" He took a peek at the doors, and gulped nervously. "There, two more, which gives the total of thirteen men. Great, now an _unlucky_ prime number. Somebody care to tell me where's Casey again?"

As he spied on the cruel, hardened faces and muscular bulging arms of the newest batch of goons trying to kill him, he caught sight of _the_ dumpling man, a.k.a. the man who stole his dinner, sneaked upon him in the air duct _and _caused him to break his arm. The left side of his face was covered in bandages, where he'd scalded himself in a pot of dumpling soup (how befitting) when he'd landed in the kitchen last night (according to Sarah). Something told Chuck that he wouldn't get away with just a broken arm this time round.

Footsteps approached and he found himself looking at the ugliest, most grotesque face ever. An eye was missing, half an ear was torn to shreds, and what was left was monster from hell. It sufficed, and was probably an understatement to say that Chuck was scared out of his wits. Sarah tried to rise and protect him, but slumped back down. Her face was pale and the rate that she was losing blood was making her dizzy. The abomination loomed down, a sadistic grin spreading the width of his deformed face as he took pleasure on the effect he produced on Chuck. In a thickly-accented voice, he whispered, "Well, well, look what we have here. You are going to regret what you did to my cousin yesterday."

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_Well, well. Perhaps you were expecting a showdown after the ending from the last chapter? I guess its part of my job as a writer to mislead you, eh? OK, fine. I didn't end up writing the air-duct epic battle because I suck at writing fighting scenes. Anyway, __I'm still getting used to writing fanfics, so please bear with me with all those corny lines and crappy jokes. _

_More reviews and constructive criticism, please? =D_


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